LET ME GROW lovely, growing old -- So many fine things do; Laces, and ivory, and gold, And silks need not be new; And there is healing in old trees, Old streets a glamour hold; Why may not I, as well as these, Grow lovely, growing old? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TRAVELLER AT THE SOURCE OF THE NILE by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS TO THE SOUR READER by ROBERT HERRICK BURIAL OF THE MINNISINK by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW A TERRE (BEING THE PHILOSOPHY OF MANY SOLDIERS) by WILFRED OWEN TWILIGHT AT SEA by AMELIA B. WELBY |